


Hank Lawson: 101 Ways Not to Adult

by Angelchexmex



Series: How Not to Adult a series of short stories by Hank Lawson [1]
Category: Royal Pains
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Condoms, D/s, Discipline, Established Relationship, Google Translate did it!, Hank is in a bad moody, Kink, Little bit angsty in the beginning, M/M, One Shot, PWP, Porn Without Plot, Riding Crop, Sex, Smut, Spanking, because safe sex, bratty Hank, but barely, dom Boris, german words!, kinkiness!, little bit of tears, mentions of orgasm denial, probably incorrect german, sub Hank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 13:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12389328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelchexmex/pseuds/Angelchexmex
Summary: Hank's frustrated, he's angry, and he's so so tired, but he doesn't know how to express any of this to his lover. Boris is worried about Hank's temper and bad mood, but willing to let sleeping bears lie. Then Hank dances jauntily over a line and it's time Boris gave Hank exactly what he's been asking for, with a little bit of TLC as well of course.





	Hank Lawson: 101 Ways Not to Adult

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the one-shot I promised! Would anyone like more of them? Also look at me, being a good write and posting things when I say I will. I'm awesome :D (Kind of I try.)
> 
> PLEASE LOVE ME AND REVIEW. Your reviews give me life and it's super encouraging to know you care enough to say something, even if it's just a keyboard smash or a note that says you enjoyed it! 
> 
> I love you all so much, hopefully you enjoy this!

Hank had been acting like an asshole since the moment he returned to Shadow Pond and he was well aware of it. He’d been terse with Boris since the man had greeted him in one of the many living rooms of the mansion. He’d been unwilling to wind down, unwilling to participate in anything Boris suggested, and unwilling to be alone to calm himself either. He’d forced his presence, unpleasant as it was on Boris for hours now, and to the older man’s credit he’d been incredibly accommodating. 

No matter what snide comments or annoying pacing or aggravating snooping Hank participated in, Boris indulged him. It only annoyed Hank more. He was acting like a child and he knew it, hell he hadn’t even acted this spoiled and selfish when he’d been an actual child, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. 

It wasn’t till they returned to their bedroom and Hank tossed the book he’d been pretending to read for a while onto one of the side tables, breaking the lamp on it in the process, that things came to a head. Hank hadn’t actually meant to break the lamp, he hadn’t meant to do anything but show his displeasure. Perhaps he’d done that a bit too well. The resounding silence after the lamp shattered felt dangerous and for a brief moment Hank almost, almost, regretted his actions.

“Enough, Hank,” Boris stated, voice low and hard in warning, breaking the utter stillness in the room and propelling Hank into action.

“Fuck you,” Hank snapped back, barely keeping himself from tossing his shoes across the room as he yanked them off. Apparently, he’d thrown out all of his self-preservation instincts this evening. The only way he could have made Boris angrier was by deliberately neglecting his health. They’d had enough intense ‘conversations’ about that habit of his over the last seven months for Hank to wince a bit just thinking about skipping lunch, but at the moment he wished he’d skipped both breakfast and lunch and decided to work instead of sleep. 

He wanted to make Boris angry, wanted someone else to be just as upset as he was. He didn’t want to have a calm and rational conversation which always led so a calm and rational solution. That’s all Hank had ever done, follow morals and rules and act like an adult. He was always the adult in every situation and he was so sick of it. 

“We are not going to be adult about this then,” Boris’ voice was as calm as ever and it made Hank grit his teeth. 

“I’m always an adult about everything,” Hank snapped back, turning his back to Boris and stripping himself in sharp almost jerky movements. He’d always been an adult. Since the day his mother got sick he’d been an adult. Since the day his father stopped being a father he’d been an adult. Since the day he realized that someone had to take care of Evan he’d been an adult. He was allowed to not be an adult sometimes and fuck Boris for thinking otherwise.

Hank resolutely ignored the part of his mind that was telling that there was a difference between not having to act like the perfect adult and not being an asshole to his lover. “You are,” Boris agreed, voice soothing now, changing from the stern Dom to something gentler and just a touch worried. “You do very well handling your responsibilities, but you need not handle everything on your own. Let me help, talk with me.” 

The idea of agreeing and being reasonable didn’t even register in Hank’s brain as Boris laid a gentle hand on his arm. Instead he took a jerking step back, “Oh fuck off with your calm bullshit,” he snapped, trying to get some kind of reaction from Boris, although what kind he wasn’t exactly sure, “I’ve had a trying enough day without this, I don’t need to be calmed down like some damn kid.”

“Then stop acting like one,” Boris snapped back, and there was a kind of pleasure in knowing he’d gotten Boris angry enough to snap, but he felt bad about it too. 

“Make me,” Hank enunciated carefully, hands clenched tightly at his sides. This wasn’t like him, this wasn’t like him at all. Usually, he preferred to come home and relax, talk with Boris for hours and then crawl into bed together and let Boris take him apart. He’d settled into something fairly close to domestic easily enough with Boris, but right now none of that seemed to matter. There was something itching and clawing away inside of Hank and he hated it, wanted it out and gone.

“Is that what you want?” Boris questions, the sharp anger from before controlled now, focused on a single purpose and all the more dangerous for it. He’s already taking off his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves, playing the part of the seducer.

Hank shifted from one foot to another. That was what he wanted. He wanted Boris to hold him down, to punish him for his attitude all evening, to make him forget about his father and take some of the responsibility that always seemed to be crushing him. But he didn’t want to say any of that so he stayed stubbornly silent and recalcitrant. 

“We won’t be doing anything,” Boris warned calmly, “if you don’t tell me what you want. I can’t read your mind, that isn’t how this works. Unless we negotiate something new, you will tell me if you want me to make you, as you so eloquently put it. Either way you will be going over my knee, we’ve talked punishments before and you know you broke many rules today.”

It was an out, Hank realized easily. A hard spanking, which was definitely what Hank had earned, would probably help alleviate some of the pressure on his chest, but that wasn’t really what he wanted right now. Or at least, it wasn’t all that he wanted. “I want you to make me,” Hank finally stated, and it felt good to say. He wouldn’t have to do anything else now, he knew, but obey. Boris’ next words let Hank relax further.

“Finish stripping and kneel at the end of the bed. You’ll not speak unless I ask you a direct question or you need to use a safe word, do you understand?” Boris questioned, hands moving down to undo his belt and slide it out of the loops on his pants. Hank knew Boris would never use it on him, something about the implement had always made Hank anxious and uncomfortable, but he’d also always loved the threat of it. 

“Yes Boris,” Hank agreed, slipping his boxers and socks off as quickly as he could without fumbling. They’d tried before, having Hank use some kind of formal title, but the most common ones didn’t sit right with Hank and trying them in German had led to more choked off laughter than anything else. Not exactly the atmosphere they’d wanted to set, so they’d settle on Hank just taking on Boris’ name to the end of everything he said. 

After stripping, Hank kneeled on the end of the bed, his feet hanging over its edge and his entire focus on what he could hear of Boris’ movements. Rustling and something clicking together, the soft sound of bells and something that sounded like tissue paper. It could mean almost anything, but the quiet read of Boris’ socked feet on the hardwood floor coming towards the bed meant only one thing. “We’ll start simple, since you seem to be unable to follow even the basic levels of human curtesy today. Arms,” Hank almost toppled forward with how quickly he whipped his arms behind his back, and he could hear Boris chuckle. 

Before that could cause him to do anything more than tense, that angry ball of emotion in his chest making itself known again, a hard smack landed on his outer thigh. Hissing in shock more than pain, Hank looked down at the reddening mark. That certainly wasn’t in the shape of a hand print, and it had stung too much for that as well. “Have you forgot the riding crop already?” Boris questioned, trailing the implement down Hank’s spine and making him shiver. “Perhaps it didn’t leave as strong an impression as I thought it had.”

Hank wanted to protest that immediately. He’d been strung up for hours, ordered not to move no matter what delicious torture Boris would inflict upon him and whenever he had so much as twitched the crop would come down on him, leaving little stinging marks in its wake. Hank had woken up sore and incredibly pleased the next day, even if it had been beyond maddening at the time. 

The crop fell a second time, this time just on the curve of his ass and Hank jumped. “I asked you a question.” Boris reminded Hank calmly, position Hanks arms as he wanted them, crossed behind his back so his forearms were pressed together and his upper arms were pressed against his sides.

“No Boris,” Hank replied, doing his best not to twitch and the feeling of silk rope binding his arms together, “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Good, shatzi, because you will become even better acquainted with again it tonight.” Boris ran a calming hand down Hank’s back and tied arms before he stepped away. “For every act of sullen rudeness, you will receive one strike. I would suggest not bothering to count, this will take a while. Lean forward now.” 

Even as Hank leaned forward, putting his ass on perfect display for what was to come, he wanted to respond to that, wanted to snap back something sarcastic and biting. The sharp sting of the crop on his ass prevented that. Usually, Boris would have warmed him up before this, used his hand to heat up Hank’s backside until it tingled pleasantly and then moved to something harsher, but that wasn’t what tonight was about. Tonight, was about taking Hank apart hard and quick.

Every stinging smack of the crop brought a gasp from Hank’s lips and a twitch from his arms. He wanted to spread his hands out and at least try to cover some of his bottom from the painful smacks, but he couldn’t, not with how his arms were tied. Boris was surprisingly quiet, not bothering to give his soft words about how good Hank was being and how wonderful he looked. It was almost maddening. 

Instead there was just the steady sound of the crop whistling through the air and Hank’s desperate whines heightening in pitch. Somewhere between the tenth and fifteenth hit, Hank’s cock had come fully on board and it was now leaking painfully between his legs. If he wasn’t sure that Boris wouldn’t hesitate to put him in a cock ring and not let him come for days, he would have started rutting against the bed cover.

After that Hank lost track, his mind floating away until all he could pay attention to was the ache of his cock and the sting of the riding crop connecting with his ass. It burned and with each hit, the dark feeling in his chest and the weight on his shoulders eased. This was what he wanted, to be tied down and made to take whatever Boris gave him with no input of his own. 

As his body eased into the blows and he began to rock back into each hit, Boris finished, laying down another half dozen smacks before stopping. 

“So good for me Hank,” Boris praised, the ridding crop appearing on the bed next to Hank’s head along with Boris’ hand. “It feels so much better to let it all out doesn’t it? There was no need to act out if this was what you needed, I’m always happy to provide.” Boris hand came into view again and brushed against Hank’s wet cheek, he hadn’t even noticed he’d been crying, but now that he was really paying attention his throat kind of hurt to. He must have been crying out towards the end, not just whining as he’d thought. 

“Do you think you can take a little more? I’d like to reward my engel. Would you like that?” Boris pulled Hank gently into his arms, being careful of Hank’s red and throbbing ass as he did so. Part of Hank just wanted to curl into Boris’ warm heat, but a reward was never something he had been able to pass up.

“Please, Boris,” Hank plead, as Boris brushed the last of the tears from Hank’s cheeks. 

“Of course,” Boris replied, pressing gentle kisses down Hank’s neck before returning to Hank’s lips and drawing the doctor into a heated kiss. The nice floating feeling from before was returning, wrapping Hank up and drawing his focus to only the points where Boris touched him. 

Hank would have been content to continue just as they were, kissing and letting Boris run soothing and warm hands up and down his sides, but eventually Boris shifted and one hand slipped down to cup Hank’s ass. Hank let out a soft grown, pushing into the touch and nipping lightly at Boris’ neck in encouragement. “Eager,” Boris approved, slipping two fingers into the crack of Hank’s ass to rub over his furled opening. The fingers were already slick, and Hank didn’t hesitate to push back onto them just as eager as Boris had accused.

“Careful engel,” Boris whispered, before sinking his teeth into Hank’s neck and drawing out a sharp gasp from the man. “Wouldn’t want you to get hurt, now would we?” Directly bellying his words, Boris didn’t hesitate to push both fingers into Hank, although he did so slowly and with care. It wasn’t exactly an easy fit, but the stretch wasn’t in anyway uncomfortable, they did this or something similar multiple times a week after all.

“Now, rock back onto my fingers. Let me see you fuck yourself open for me,” Hank pulled back from Boris slightly, trying to get his legs under him and push back as well as he could. It was difficult , coordinating himself like this while straddling Boris thighs and being distracted by a mixture of sucking kisses and sharp bruising bites

It felt wonderful, having Boris inside him, and eventually, after Hank had bucked and moaned and whimpered sufficiently. Boris took pity and dropped the man carefully on the bed. “Good engel, that was exactly what I wanted from you, now relax for me. Can you do that?”

Eager and wanting, Hank nodded his agreement, spreading his legs and lifting them up so Boris could get in closer. “So thoughtful, engel, so good for me,” Boris murmured, tearing open a condom packet and rolling it on. One day, when Hank was actually coherent enough to remember, he would ask Boris where he stashed all of the condoms and lube, because for all the he searched he had only ever found them in the bathroom and yet there always seemed to be some in the right places when Boris needed them.

Whatever chance Hank had of remembering that oddity, vanished as Boris slid inside him. Hard and hot and wonderful and exactly what Hank needed, the doctor sighed. The last of the tension in him bleeding away gratefully. “There we go,” Boris pressed gentle kisses to Hanks throat, “now hold on.” Which was a stupid thing to say because Hank’s arms were still tied behind him and he couldn’t actually hold on to anything, but that didn’t matter because the next second Boris was pulling out and slamming back in. His hips slapping against Hank’s already sore ass and cock brushing against his prostate every other thrust caused Hank to cry out, back arching and body straining to get closer to Boris.

“Shout for me,” Boris purred, his accent thickening as he thrust harder and faster. Hank obeyed, he couldn’t do anything else. Boris continued to move, hands wrapped firmly around Hank’s hips because nothing said unsexy like smacking your lover’s head into the headboard by thrusting too hard, and lips marking up the sides of Hank’s throat. They would serve as good reminders in the coming days that Hank wasn’t alone and didn’t need to shoulder the world on his own.

Eventually Boris, who’d been keeping up a steady stream of encouragement, slipped entirely into German. The rough and loving sound of the language urging Hank on further, but he couldn’t quite reach the edge. He’d never been able to have an orgasm just from prostate simulation and Boris had never pressed the issue. It wasn’t like it was some kind of requirement or anything after all. Instead, Boris lifted one of his hands from Hank’s hips and wrapped it around Hank’s cock, stroking three, four times before Hank came with a grateful shout. 

Boris continued to thrust into Hank, the doctor’s body slowly coming down from its high and then quickly becoming over sensitized. This was something else Hank loved, it hurt a bit or perhaps ached was a better term, but something about it was absolutely addicting. The feeling of being used even after he had been run dry was oddly compelling, and he continued to flex his hips, trying to push back onto Boris’ cock as best he could. 

Finally, or maybe sadly, Boris came, whatever sound he might have made buried on Hank’s shoulder where he bit down. Boris words slowly transitioned back to English, but Hank was a bit too out of it to care. He didn’t have to really anyway. Now, Boris would untie Hank and get him some orange juice, maybe something to eat after cleaning them both up. They’d both end up in bed curled around each other and they’d drift off to sleep. Hank knew exactly how things would go, they always went the same way after all, and through it all Hank didn’t have to do anything. He didn’t have to be the perfect or adult or a bratty one, he could just be. 

It was his favorite time, so he enjoyed it and put all thoughts of tomorrow, which liked to try and intrude about now, away. He could deal with his father and his brother later. He could apologize, and he really did need to in the morning, for now he was just going to relax into Boris gentle touch and soak in the words of love and praise. If this was what it was like to be an adult, then maybe Hank really didn’t mind it so much as he has thought.

**Author's Note:**

> I might make this into a series. With a couple of tweaks I have three more one-shots that could work with this. All of them involving Hank being a bit bratty or doing something he shouldn't. It could be fun. Anyone interested?


End file.
